Our journey through life makes sense when we know where we are.

That question has shaped much of my life and work.

For years, I studied people—what we believe, what we value, the stories we tell, and the forces that shape the world around us. I taught ethics and religion. I studied philosophy and faith. I watched how stories influence the way people understand themselves and one another.

But eventually, I realized something:

I wasn't just studying the human journey. I was living one.

What if there was a map to help us navigate the fog of uncertainties and surprises of life? 

Choices keep us moving. Sometimes we choose our direction. Sometimes decisions affecting our lives are chosen by others.

I've experienced seasons of sacrifice for the sake of responsibility, loss, uncertainty, transition, and starting over. I've cared for people I love during the most vulnerable moments in their lives. I've faced times when the future I expected was no longer the future in front of me.

And I've learned that knowing where you are can be just as important as knowing where you want to go.

When we don't know where we are, we tend to panic.

We may mistake a setback for the end of the story. We may keep trying to return to a place we've already left. We may follow someone else's map because we don't know how to read our own.

But when we understand where we are, the next step becomes easier to see.

That realization eventually became the foundation for my work today.

The Sojourner's Journey is a twelve-point map for understanding where you are in the larger journey of your life.

It isn't a straight line. Life doesn't work that way.

We move through seasons of longing, preparation, uncertainty, relationships, trials, crisis, renewal, pruning, responsibility, building, blessing, and fulfillment. Sometimes we revisit places we've been before. Sometimes we discover that what looked like an ending was actually the beginning of something new.

The purpose of the journey isn't simply to arrive somewhere.

It is to learn how to recognize where you are—and what this moment requires of you.

That is why the question at the center of my work is simple:

Where are you?

My work sits at the intersection of several questions that have fascinated me for years.

Stories do more than entertain us. They give us models for understanding ourselves, other people, and the world. The stories we consume—and the stories we believe about our own lives—can influence what we value, what we fear, and what we believe is possible.

What is true?

What is good?

What is worth pursuing?

How should we live?

These aren't merely academic questions. They become practical questions every time we have to make a difficult decision.

I believe our understanding of life ultimately cannot be separated from our understanding of God. Faith isn't simply one subject among many. It shapes how we understand purpose, responsibility, human dignity, suffering, hope, and the future.

We are shaped by the world around us. Film, television, music, literature, technology, institutions, and the ideas circulating through society all contribute to the culture we inhabit.

I want to understand those influences rather than simply absorb them.

I believe people have a daily potential for growth and are capable of becoming more than they currently are. 

But maximizing our potential isn't simply about achievement.

Maximizing our potential begins with learning to think rightly about God, ourselves, other people, and the world in which we live.

I spent thirteen years teaching ethics and religion at the community-college level.

My courses included Introduction to Ethics, Introduction to the Old Testament, Introduction to the New Testament, and World Religions.

I hold a master's degree in ethics and am a certified human-rights consultant. My academic background gave me a framework for examining difficult questions, while my life experience taught me that those questions don't remain in the classroom.

Eventually, I realized that I wanted to spend more of my time writing, studying culture, creating, and helping people make sense of the journeys they are actually living.

Today, I describe myself simply as a writer and cultural analyst.

I study how stories shape people—and how people shape culture, and I'm building a body of work around a question I believe every one of us eventually has to answer:

Where are you?

This site is where I bring those interests together.

Ideas about faith, culture, philosophy, stories, technology, human potential, and the forces shaping the world around us.

Conversations with people who are thinking deeply about faith, creativity, culture, media, and the future.

A framework for recognizing where you are in life's journey and discerning what comes next.

An examination of the stories, ideas, technologies, and institutions influencing the culture we are building.

My goal isn't to tell you what to think. It's to help you think clearly enough to discover what you believe—and live accordingly.

You're entering a new chapter.

Something you've built is changing.

You're carrying responsibilities you didn't expect.

You've experienced a loss.

You're questioning what comes next.

You feel like you've lost your bearings.

You're trying to understand what's happening in the world around you.

You're asking deeper questions about faith, purpose, culture, or your future.

Or maybe you simply know that you were made for more—but you're not entirely sure what "more" looks like.

If that's you, you're in the right place.

I don't have your journey figured out for you, but I can help you learn to recognize where you are.

I believe your life is not random.

I believe your experiences matter.

I believe truth matters.

I believe wisdom is more valuable than information.

I believe stories shape us.

I believe what we believe about God affects how we live.

I believe every season has something to teach us.

And I believe that becoming who we were created to be requires more than discovering our potential.

It requires discovering who we are, where we are, and what we are being called to do with the life we've been given.

That's why I keep coming back to the same question.